


suckers.

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Tenspeed and Brown Shoe (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 18:35:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: Damn Lionel, and damn the lollipop in his mouth.





	suckers.

Sometimes, you gotta pick up a funny identity. You know, E.L. ain’t a stranger to a weird name or a funny face once in a while – he likes to pick stuff up here and there, likes to keep himself limber and slipping into the right roles, the right identities.

But it ain’t always a cut-and-dry, easy kinda thing.

He’d slipped into the bar without knowing exactly what it was, come in through the backroom and pilfered (borrowed, he’ll say to Lionel later, he rehearses saying _borrowed_ in his head even as he pulls it off the coat rack) a coral pink blazer from one of the lounge-singer’s rooms, sliding it on and… Immediately realising that they weren’t _lounge-singers_ , exactly.

The bar is smoky and bustling with men: there isn’t a woman in sight, though there sure are dresses, brassieres and stockings all around… Uh huh. Yeah.

“Hey, you Mr Pink?” The guy’s a user, E.L. can see immediately, shifting uneasily from one foot to the next, and rubbing his left arm in rhythmic, anxious circles. But no, no, drug dealing, that’ll get him a bit too much attention…

“Naw,” E.L. says immediately, running a hand through his hair and raising his eyebrows meaningfully. “But I, uh, I see how the jacket’d fool ya. Naw, I’m Eli, Eli Haverford. I deal with, uh, haha, a different kind of trade.” The junkie’s friends, who have parted to let “Eli” through, laugh, and E.L. glances across the room. Hmph.  The place is _packed_ , and it won’t be easy to get something out of the bartender, not when it’s a gay bar, and sure as Hell when it’s not a gay bar full of the criminal element, but…

“You’re a pimp?” a smaller guy asks, twitchy in a very different way – E.L. grins at him, and he reaches out, plucking an imaginary piece off the guy’s collar. The guy’s breath hitches in his throat, and E.L. smiles at him, tipping his chin back slightly.

“Sure am,” E.L. purrs. “What kinda guy you looking for, man?”

“Uh—”

Lionel comes in through the front door, because… Of course he does. E.L. hadn’t thought he’d catch up for at least an hour – he’d stopped to help some old lady from the apartment block change a tire on her Ford, and his jacket is off, his tie is off – both of those had been oil-stained, he expects, and so Lionel just wears his shirt open at the collar and slightly untucked, and—

Jesus Christ.

Half the room turns to look at Lionel, wide-eyed, tall, with all that neck on show, and with a damned _lollipop_ sticking out of his mouth.

“Lionel, honey,” E.L. calls across the room, and Lionel’s eyes flick toward him, the candy lolling on his tongue, his wide eyes widening _more_. It’s not as if E.L. isn’t aware his partner is pretty, because E.L. is all too aware that Lionel is _pretty_ , but God, this ain’t the time nor the place for Lionel to show himself off as XL twink with an ass like a peach. “Come here.”

Lionel glances around the room, apparently uncertain about all the eyes on him, but then he slips forward anyway, putting his hands in his pockets in an attempt to appear casual, and only succeeding in making him look even _ganglier_.

“Gee,” the small guy mumbles, swallowing. “He one of yours?”

“Sure is,” E.L. says, and he grabs Lionel by the belt loop, dragging him close. Lionel lets out a surprised grunt of noise, but he’s just started on that sucking candy, and the thing is keeping his mouth mercifully occupied – shit, maybe E.L. should use these _whenever_ he needs Lionel distracted enough not to talk. Even if it doesn’t have the same hypnotic effect as it’s having on all these homosexuals ( _and what about you, E.L.? As if you don’t like seeing the stick of the candy coming out between his lips like that)_ , it’ll keep him _shut up_. Lionel stares down at E.L.’s hand as he reaches right into Lionel’s pocket, slipping two twenties out of Lionel’s wallet without pulling out the wallet himself, and Lionel stares at the bills in his hand as E.L. slides them into his front pocket. “Lionel, honey, uh, I thought you were doing a job.” Lionel’s hand reaches up toward the lollipop, but E.L. catches it before he can, playing his fingers over the back of Lionel’s hand and making him shiver.

“Finished,” Lionel mumbles around the lollipop, glancing from E.L.’s hand to the guys next to them, all of whom are looking at Lionel like they’ve been in the desert for six months apiece, and Lionel is a cool drink of water. “What—”

“This the kinda _working boy_ you’re looking for, guy?” E.L. asks, his tone very pointed, and he hears Lionel choke on the candy.

“He ain’t my usual… I like smaller, um, like, guys my size, but he’s— He’s really something,” the smaller guy says, putting one hand out to touch Lionel’s chest, and E.L. smacks his hand away, _hard_.

“Mmm, _the kind_ ,” E.L. says sharply. “Lionel here has just done his last job of the day, if— Ha. Well. He’s done his last paid job of the day, if you get what I mean.” He has to do it, and he’ll just have to deal with naïve Lionel’s protests _later_ , when they’re out of here: he slides his other hand from Lionel’s waist down to his ass, and Lionel yelps, but jumps _closer_ to E.L. instead of away, so that his body is flush against E.L.’s. His ass is pretty tight, too, firm muscle under E.L.’s palm, warm under the grey slacks. “Listen, boys, I, uh, I need to take my pretty boy out for a cigarette break, so let me just—”

“Wait,” Lionel says, pulling the sucker from his mouth with an audible _pop_ that one guy twitch and two shiver, and he puts his hand on E.L.’s shoulder. “Did you get the—” He freezes, obviously wondering what to say instead of “forwarding address of our ex-bartender disappearing act”, and then continues, “Did you get the, um… The cocktail recipe I wanted?”

“Honey,” E.L. says, a little stiffly, “we can’t exactly _push_ that right now, I want a cigarette break, and we need to get out of here, so—”

“But you _promised_ ,” Lionel says, and he even puts a little bit of a wheedle in his voice, his hand sliding from E.L.’s shoulder to E.L.’s neck. Oh, _shit_. Okay, maybe Lionel isn’t quite as naïve as he thought: E.L. sees him glance at the guys, a little nervously, but his palm is hot and _broad_ against the side of E.L.’s neck, and Lionel says, “You _promised_ you’d get it, it’s so important to me, didn’t I show you how important it was to me?”

Lionel definitely thinks this case is important – he’s “in love” with the blonde twins that had hired them to look for their brother, and thinks both of ‘em are just the picture of integrity. Probably doesn’t even know they’re both strippers at the Londis.

“Oh, you sure showed me,” E.L. agrees, and he shoots a lascivious grin to one of the other guys, squeezing Lionel’s ass.

“So _get_ it,” Lionel says. “Now.”

“Now?” E.L. demands, gritting his teeth slightly. Lionel slides the sucker back into his mouth.

“ _Now_ ,” he says, and he _pouts_. “You can, uh—” Lionel trails off, laughing a little, and he actually drags the lollipop along his lower lip, tracing the pink line of it. “You can leave me with your friends.”

“I sure can’t,” E.L. says immediately, taking the opening as it’s given, and he takes Lionel by the hip, bringing him toward the bar. “What the Hell are you doing?”

“Playing the role,” Lionel hisses back, holding the sucker in his hand. “You told me that when you start acting, I should just—"

“Shut up,” E.L. snaps, and he leans on the bar, offering his sweetest smile. “Hey there, uh— Listen, I—”

“We’re sorry to bother you,” Lionel says anxiously, and E.L. inwardly winces, wondering exactly what version of the detective spiel Lionel is gonna ruin the evening with, but Lionel says, “My, um… My ex-boyfriend, he, um, he used to work here? His name is, um, it’s Henry Perini, and he—”

“Oh, _honey_ ,” the barman says, batting his mascara-laden eyes and pouting out his lips as he looks at Lionel sympathetically. “You weren’t with that _brute_?”

“Uh huh,” Lionel says, and he’s doing that thing with the lollipop again, this mix of innocent and _completely filthy_. Christ, E.L. is only human. What’s he supposed to do? _Not_ enjoy the sight of a raspberry-red, spit-slick candy sliding over Lionel’s lips and tongue? Damn. _Damn_. “And, um… I’m with somebody better now,” Lionel adds, a little breathlessly, and he leans _into_ E.L. (God, Lionel learning to act is killing him), “but he… He took my _cat_ , and he just did it to, um, to spite me, really, but I just wondered if you guys know where he’s living now?”

“He stole your _cat_?” the other bartender says, gasping, and the two of them look at each other as Lionel shoots them the doe eyes, and… “Golly, honey, yeah, we have his address right here…”

“And here’s his new work number,” says the first one, both of them writing on napkins at once. Damn. Works like a _charm_.

“Thank you,” E.L. says, hurriedly taking up both napkins. “He’s— He really misses that cat.”

“You’re so good to him,” the second bartender coos, patting E.L.’s hand, and the first one nods.

“You take care of this one, pretty boy,” he says, batting his lashes again. “He’ll treat you way better than Perini ever did.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lionel says, nodding. “He sure does.”

God, E.L.’s never left a gay bar in such a hurry in his _life_.

\--

“A working boy?” Lionel demands, immediately. “Really? Really? Was that the best thing that you could think of that you could possibly ascribe to _me_ , in a bar like that, in front of people who—”

“Oh, and what was I supposed to call you, when I was just telling ‘em I was a pimp, huh? You come in with your shirt half-unbuttoned, a damn _sucker_ in your mouth like you’re some kinda porn star, and you—”

“A pornstar! A pornstar! I’m not anything _like_ a pornstar, Mrs Saperstein gave me the sucker because I did such a good job with her car tire and she wanted to make her I ate it because she said I was too thin so _sorry_ for just trying to make an old lady happy—”

“Oh, happy! Sure she was damn happy! Sixty-six years old and she doesn’t know how to change her own damn tire! Bull _shit_ , Lionel, Mrs Saperstein just wanted to see you without your jacket on, because Mr Saperstein’s been dead three years now and—”

“Don’t be disgusting! She would never—”

“Oh, she sure would!” They’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other in the back alley of the bar, the two napkins shoved hastily into E.L.’s pocket, and Lionel stares down at him. His lips are shining sticky in the dim light, and E.L. wonders if they taste of raspberry. “That was a pretty convincing act in there.”

“You said I had to be a better actor,” Lionel says defensively.

“Yeah, be a better actor, not all but promise to give a few homos a _blowjob_.”

“I wasn’t promising _them_ anything,” Lionel snaps, adding, “Your hand was on my _ass_ , E.L., don’t you act like you have a problem with homosexuals!”

“Your ass’d convert any heterosexual,” E.L. says, without thinking. Lionel’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, and he brings the sucker slowly to his mouth, his tongue sliding over the red surface. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Right, um,” Lionel says. “Me neither.”

They stare at each other for a long second.

“You want some?” Lionel says. E.L.’s mouth is dry.

“Huh?”

“Of the sucker?”

“You’re the damn sucker,” E.L. mutters, and Lionel takes a step into his space, crowding him up against the brickwall of the alleyway.

“Try it,” Lionel says, a little huskily. “You might— It’s nice. It’s sweet.”

“Bet it’s been in that old lady’s car for fifteen years.”

“Try it,” Lionel repeats, and E.L.—

Christ. Like he said. He’s only human.

Grabbing Lionel by the shirt collar, he drags him down: Lionel lets out a groan of noise that’s muffled against E.L.’s mouth. The kiss is clumsy and messy, but E.L. gets the taste of raspberry, tangy and sweet, against his mouth, feels Lionel’s tongue, feels Lionel _lean closer_. They break apart with a wet smack of sound.

“Sure,” E.L. says. “Tastes fine.”

Lionel drops the sucker on the ground, and he _pins_ E.L. against the wall, throwing their mouths together again, and—

God damn it, fuck the _case_.

Lionel is kissing him hard, not with the most finesse in the world, but with gusto and enthusiasm, and—

“Car,” E.L. says when they break apart for air. “Car, office, now.”

“But the ca—”

“Actually, your apartment is closer,” E.L. says. Lionel hesitates, swallowing.

“Well, what do you, um, what do you want to do? Because, you know, it’s the middle of the day, and we can’t really… And you know, I’m not, I don’t have a problem with homosexuals, but I’m not—” No, no, he can’t do this. He can’t rock up to the club, tongue a lollipop, tongue _E.L._ , and then—

“Listen, Whitney, your tongue and my tongue just became good neighbours, so let’s not have the _I’m straight_ rationalisations until after I can acquaint my tongue with something else of yours,” E.L. says, and Lionel stares at him dumbly.

“Something… else?” he repeats, blandly, as if he can’t possibly comprehend—

“ _Car_ ,” E.L. says plaintively. “ _Bed_. **_Now_.** ”

“Okay,” Lionel mumbles, and he all but _runs_ with E.L. in pursuit.

**Author's Note:**

> [Hit me up on Tumblr](http://dictionarywrites.tumblr.com/faq). Requests always open.
> 
> Also, two little announcements! I've now set up a Goldblum fan blog, because like... I mean, who is surprised? So check that out at [goldbluminspired.tumblr.com](), and DEFINITELY check out the watch parties I'm setting up! Every Saturday, I want to set up a watch party where we can all watch a livestream of some Jeff Goldblum content together, and next Saturday, we're doing Vibes (1998)! Totally follow the blog for more info.
> 
> Secondly, you'll notice this fic is part of a new collection, the [Jeff Goldblum Cinematic Universe](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Jeff_Goldblum_Cinematic_Universe) \- totally feel free to add your own fics and bookmarks to this one! This is for all Jeff Goldblum roles, but especially for ones from more minor fandoms, and I'm super excited about setting up.


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